


Year One, Year Two, Year Three

by Sintari (OriginalSintari)



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 15:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13791051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalSintari/pseuds/Sintari
Summary: The Farmer attempts to find peace in the midst of temptation in the valley. If only Shane would let him. If only he would let himself.





	Year One, Year Two, Year Three

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for what I've done to these poor, dear characters. Well, except for Shane because he was totally begging for it.

The dock south of your farm. Maybe if you can catch a couple more pike you can trade them for seed and keep the farm going one more day. But Shane is there, a pyramid of cans stacked by his feet. He looks at you and his face is framed by stars.

The crickets chirp and he smells like beer and it’s so wildly romantic when he looms over you that you think he’s going to kiss you right there on the dock as you clutch your bamboo fishing pole, but instead he hands you a beer and looks out at the water. 

“You ever been stuck in a pit so deep you don’t think you’ll ever climb out?”

You leave without catching a thing.

Over the next month you find yourself walking in the wood south of your farm at night, but you never see him at the docks again. Penny mentions offhand that he helped her mom home from the tavern one night. Still, you walk. One evening just as dusk you come across a gypsy caravan.

She looks at you, looks over your shoulders at something you can’t see on the rickety dock. “Take heed, farmer. There’s nothing for you here.” 

You think maybe she’s talking about the price of her wares and your empty pockets. But then again you know she’s not.

()()()()()

It’s a month later at nearly the same spot when Leah asks you to help her pick a piece of fruit.

You’re powerfully built these days from all that toil on the farm and it’s no problem to lift her on your shoulders. After you place her back on solid ground she feeds you wedges of the starfruit she found. It’s sticky and sweet.

The juice from her hands leaves twin trails down her hips as she slides her pants down.

You lick the juice from her fingers before lifting her up again, this time pressing her back to the tree. She wraps her legs around your neck and the place between her legs tastes of starfruit and cedar.

Only when she’s pulled your hair so hard you see stars while gasping her orgasm into the forest do you remember that Penny sometimes brings the kids out here on summer days. You wipe your mouth.

These days you don’t meet Leah’s eyes anymore. You put the sculpture she made for you out of sight in your shed.

()()()()()

Without consciously thinking about it, you pause behind a shrub to avoid Penny seeing you enter the Stardrop. The two of you have been spending time together, and you realize for the first time as you cower in the leaves that you’ve mentally added her to your short list of people you’d never want to disappoint.

But as soon as you hear the screen door on her trailer slam, you go inside anyway. 

You sit at the corner of the bar. You and Shane both nod and you notice his eyes are already unfocused and glassy.

You’re surprised when he’s the first to speak. “Gridball game,” he grunts. “Sunday at my place.”

That Sunday you show up with some beers from Gus’s since your shitty farmhouse doesn’t even have a kitchen yet. You had almost convinced yourself that this was to be a gathering of friends. That Shane didn’t invite you especially. 

When you get there it’s clear what you knew all along – Shane doesn’t have friends. He does have 12-packs, which you can see he has already started on. You’ve never been in Shane’s room before. It’s messy and cramped and the only place to see the TV is the bed. You sit as far from each other as possible, his hip hugging the headboard, you perched precariously at the foot.

Once, when the Tunnelers score a goal, Shane cheers. Otherwise, you sip and watch in silence. You’d wonder why you’re here except as the game has progressed, through the grabbing of fresh beers and the general viewing of gridball, you’ve both somehow managed to meet one another in the middle of the bed. Your bare calf brushes Shane’s and a tingle electrifies your entire body. You think your hair must be standing on end. You’re sure Shane can smell your want in the air.

For the first time that night, he looks you in the eye and there’s no alcoholic haze there. He reaches between your legs, staring at you all the while.

The word he says next will be the stuff of late night jack off sessions for years to come. Some days you are so overcome with the memory of Shane’s hand around your cock that you have to stop in the fields and relieve your need right there between the rows of corn.

“Unzip.”

The next time you sit at the end of the bar the haze is back and Shane doesn’t see you. Or pretends not to. You finally manage to catch his eye, but he hastily looks away. He’s still a man of few words, but this time he only speaks to Gus.

“Another.”

You don’t speak again for months.

()()()()()

One your way home from ocean fishing one night you decide to take a shortcut through the graveyard. In a way you’re not surprised to see Abigail there. She always was a spooky one.

She looks in you in that certain way that causes you to drop your bag of eels.

“I trade with your dad,” you say.

“Daddy won’t know,” she answers, hitching her skirt up above her waist. You bend her over one of the tombstones, and have to cover her mouth with your hand before her moans can attract attention from the patrons at the tavern.

“Would that really be so bad?” you think for a minute. He’s in there nearly every night now.

Abigail kisses you on the cheek before ducking through the hedges. She always has a special smile for you, but Pierre never says anything. Still, go into JojaMart to compare the price of seeds. Just in case. Shane is stocking shelves and you can’t tell if he doesn’t see you or just pretends not to.

()()()()()

With the fall crop in, you can finally afford to add a kitchen to your house. After you shake hands with Robin, you notice Sebastian in the garage working on his motorcycle.

When he stands up there’s a two-finger smear of grease across his forehead and, despite the cooling temperatures, he smells of clean sweat.

Maybe it’s that you’re finally feeling a measure of financial security, maybe it’s the fact that the quiet death of winter will soon descend on the land, or maybe it’s something else. But suddenly you know you could have him.

And you want to have him.

Sebastian drags you by the belt into the cool of the garage, not caring that the only thing keeping his step-father and sister from hearing you clatter together are the sturdy walls his own mother built.

The sound of your zipper brings back such erotic memories of beer, and gridball and _him_ that you almost finish on the spot.

But Sebastian drops bonelessly to his knees before you and – oh – you’ve never done this with another guy before. You thread your fingers in his long hair as he takes you all the way down his throat. 

You struggle to remain quiet as the tension builds until, just at the precise moment, Sebastian expertly slides you out of his mouth and aims you at his face. Your spider trail of semen joins the grease there. He smiles up at you.

“Now me.”

You’ve never done this with a guy before either. You want to do it again.

()()()()()

 It’s the height of summer, and with the children out of school Penny has taken to cooking dinner for you some evenings. One night after Robin has completed your brand new kitchen you decide to return the favor. With your second attempt at spaghetti and some bread packed snugly in your knapsack, and a bouquet of flowers conspicuous under your arm, you stop at the Stardrop first. Give Gus the cash for a couple more rounds for Pam. Feel guilty. Look at Shane, who looks back. Open your mouth to speak. Don’t.

It’s only when you knock on the screen door that you realize you’ve never actually been inside the trailer where Penny lives. You and Penny have passed the time on the old glider outside sometimes, but you realize you’re crossing a line here. Into intimacy.

Penny gasps when she sees you, but it’s not a sound of happy surprise. She’s wearing yellow scrubbing gloves, and she’s so slight that you can’t help but see past her to the horrific mess.

“I cooked…” is all you can say. And Penny’s body is wracked with a giant sob.

You’re both still cleaning when Pam staggers in. The things that were said do not bear repeating. Suffice it to say, you’ll never cover Pam’s bar tab again.

When Penny tells you how she feels at the bathhouse, and you kiss, you close your eyes and see that waif of a girl sobbing among the squalor. You think of your grandfather and his hopes for you and the farm, and the hints all the villagers have been dropping.

Shane sits as far away as possible from you at your and Penny’s wedding. 

()()()()()

 Penny’s back is to you when you finally crawl into bed that night. When you go to give her a kiss on the back of her neck you feel her entire body thrum like a live wire.

“Maru says you give Haley a sunflower today.” Most days you can forget she’s the child of an alcoholic, but today her voice is small and hurt and you realize you’ve done this, and could do so much more.

“I- I’m sorry. I ran into her… I just know she loves them,” you say. “I promise you if I’d known it would hurt you I never would have-

“Haley’s not the one you should worry about,” you think.

“Seemingly mollified, Penny turns over and trustingly silences your apology with a goodnight kiss.

()()()()()

Leaving Pierre’s store, you come across Shane with a video camera on his shoulder. At first you think Clint has finally confessed the thing everyone knows to the eternally-oblivious Emily, but then you realize they’re just making some kind of commercial for Joja Cola.

When Shane yells cut, Emily grabs your arm and says, “Oh this is perfect! The farmer can be our extra!”

You’re wary when Shane explains about the 10,000 gold prize and asks you to “make the scene feel more realistic.” It’s the first time you have spoken since the gridball game. Just the thought of that day still makes your skin feel tight. You manage to walk through the background of the scene a few times without looking at the camera, or the man behind it.

“Aaaah I have to get to work!” Emily exclaims after a few more takes. Clint follows along behind her like a smitten puppy, and you’re left alone with Shane and his video camera.

He brings the camera back up to his shoulder and points it at you. You see the red light blink on. 

“Don’t,” you say. You hide your face behind your hand. The light blinks off and he looks at you as if memorizing you.

 You’d do anything he asked you to in that moment.

“I-“ Shane says to you.

Expectation mounts in the air.

“I know a place we can go.”

You’ve never given much thought to the ruined community center, but Shane knows a back entrance. His mouth is on yours as soon as the door creaks shut.

This time you do the things you’ve thought about to distraction as you accidentally overpay at Pierre’s, or overwater the fields. You thread your fingers through his belt buckles as you slide his jeans down. Your tongue explores the indentation of his hip bones, the insides of his wrists, the sweat-drop hollow of his neck. It’s frenzied and it’s rough and it’s over far too soon. 

It’s only when he’s left you there in the dust-flecked dark that you realize he hadn’t tasted beer on his lips at all.

()()()()()

You spend the next morning in your shed, following a faded blueprint.

Penny is teaching today. 

Soon, what you hope is a “Crystalarium” sits before you. You managed to only shock yourself once. You would have liked to ask her best friend Maru for help, but you remember the incident of Haley and the sunflower and you don’t think you can take the sound of Penny’s small, hurt voice in the dark of night again.

You brush hay aside and slip the small, perfectly clear emerald from your hiding spot beneath the loose floorboard. You had planned to have Clint make it into a ring for Penny’s birthday. You place the emerald inside, switch the machine on, and hope this works.

You can still feel Shane’s belt loop in the crook of your finger.

()()()()()

The guilt is overwhelming. Shane rarely shows up at the Stardop, but as the long winter progresses and your farm tasks have dried up, your mother-in-law has taken to saving a place for you at the stool by her side.

You’re careful with Penny’s childhood traumas, but one day you catch a glimpse of Shane microwaving pizza poppers as you buy a new milk pail at Marnie’s store. That night you forget about the alcohol on your lips when you kiss your wife goodnight. She stiffens, and the bed she always keeps warm for you feels suddenly as cold as ice.

“I’m won’t raise my child under the roof of a drinker,” she says.

You’re so hazy and unfocused that it takes you a few startled moments to realize what she means.

“I’ll never drink another drop,” you promise. It’s the least you can do.

()()()()()

As Penny’s belly grows the nest egg that once seemed so secure begins to look pitiable. You find new ways to provide, and one of those ways leads you to meet the mysterious Krobus. You always feel unsettled when you climb out of the sewer after visiting his strange store.

Late one night you are making your way home when a sound makes the freeze in your tracks.

Shane is standing far too close to the cliff’s edge. And all the while you cajole him away from the precipice and eventually to the clinic, you realize that you’ve said less than 100 words to each other the entire time you’ve been in Stardew Valley. That as long as you can Shane keep up this dance, one of you will always dance too close to oblivion. Tonight it was almost him. Next it could be you.

You say goodbye when you leave him at the clinic. A word you’ve never said to each other before.

()()()()()

Seasons pass. You welcome your little girl to the world, then your boy. On anniversaries you present Penny with a new piece of jewelry made from a new Crystalarium-grown emerald. After her uncertain upbringing, she’s always so, so grateful.

The only alcohol that passes through your hands now is the wine barrels you ferment in your cellar and then sell to Gus or the big distributors in Zuzu City.

Of course, you were forced to diversify. You have a new competitor on the poultry front with Shane and his prize-winning blue chickens. You don’t hold it against him, though. Your actions caused the JojaMart to close down, and a man has to make a living.

You see him around sometimes – milking at Marnie’s, or trading at Pierre’s. Once you even saw him emerge from the shrine in the back. You smiled a little at that, and he ducked his head shyly.

Once, at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies, you look over and see him talking to Emily. See him smile.

You feel that last small part of your heart you weren’t even sure was reserved for him pop like a bubble breaking.

Then you hear a small gasp as your ginger-haired daughter’s eyes glow with the light of the first of the moonlight jellies. Penny squeezes your hand. You’ll start teaching your son to separate weeds from sprouts tomorrow. And the seasons will roll on.

You are content.


End file.
